Tim Dowling's attempt to interview eminent scientists hit an unexpected obstacle when a smart meter installation caused a temporary power cut, plunging his home office into darkness and forcing him to rely on a phone hotspot to salvage the Zoom meeting.
Smart meter installation coincides with interview
Dowling, a columnist, was in the final phase of transitioning to an electric car. His electricity supplier was set to install a smart meter in conjunction with a special tariff allowing him to charge the car cheaply at night. He noted that after that, he only needed to live long enough to see a return on his considerable investment.
In the meantime, he needed to interview several eminent scientists for his work. He found them easy to reach, as they are typically attached to academic institutions that provide contact details, and surprisingly willing to spend an hour explaining their work to a moron. However, after emailing four or five, he began to suspect a conspiracy of silence when none replied promptly.
A race against time
When he went to bed that night, he still hadn't heard back from anyone. Waking at 7am, he checked his phone to find nothing. His wife noted that the smart meter man had texted to say he was coming between 12 and 12.30, and asked if Dowling would be in. He confirmed he would be there, trying to find five other scientists.
Four hours later, while composing another email in his office shed, his wife said she was popping out, reminding him about the man. Shortly after, a new email arrived from an eminent scientist, who was happy to be interviewed but only within the next 45 minutes. Dowling checked the time difference, noting the scientist was evidently up very early to accommodate him.
He arranged a Zoom meeting in 30 minutes, tracked down his notepad with questions, moved his laptop to the optimal angle so his head was framed by bookshelves, laid his phone on the desk to record the meeting as a backup, and reviewed the scientist's biography on the institution's website. Then he remembered the meter guy and rang his wife.
Power cut chaos
His wife, walking towards the front door, agreed to deal with the meter man. Dowling adjusted his chair and checked his questions again. He saw the meter man arriving, backlit by the open front door, exactly on time. He entered the Zoom meeting space five minutes early and centred his head on the screen. One minute before the scheduled start, he began recording on his phone.
Suddenly, his desk lamp went off, his computer screen dimmed, and the picture of him froze. The wifi signal was gone. The next 30 seconds were captured by the automated transcription service, showing him exclaiming, "What is happening?" and "Oh my God, He's turned off the electricity!" followed by "Holy shit! Um. Come on! What do I do?"
He ran into the house and found a man in a polo shirt bearing the logo of his new electricity provider, holding a length of cable. When asked if he had turned off the electricity, the man confirmed he had, and that it would be off for about 40 minutes. Dowling screamed "Fuck!" which was to be their only interaction.
Salvaging the interview
After three further minutes of blind panic, Dowling realised he could access the internet via his phone's personal hotspot. He re-entered the Zoom meeting, where the eminent scientist was waiting patiently. The recording on his phone did not pick up his laboured breathing or the thudding of his heart; all that was audible was his apology, followed by the hour-long interview, punctuated by the steady pinging of new emails arriving—all the other scientists getting back to him.
